The Sweet Smells of Victory

By

Jason Gay

Updated April 12, 2012 11:14 a.m. ET

The New York Yankees have a new fragrance line—blue bottle with the NY logo for men; pink bottle for women—and sure, it's pretty funny, but it could have been a little zestier. It would have been better had it been called "Steinbrenner Scion" or "Profligate" or "Midnight Pavano" or something seductive like that. I've yet to locate an actual bottle of the stuff, but I hope it smells of elderflower, Don Zimmer and entitlement.

ENLARGE

'New York Yankees for Her'
The Cloudbreak Group

The truth is, this isn't terribly new. Athletes have been hawking scents for a while now. Michael Jordan did a fragrance, as did Derek Jeter, Roger Federer, and naturally, soccer fashion obsessive David Beckham. Fragrances are an easy income source—seriously, all you have to do is drop some cat hair and a couple Tic Tacs inside a bottle of ginger ale, shake it wildly and mark it up to $120—so it's surprising more athletes and sports franchises don't leap at the opportunity. What man doesn't want to go into a department store and come out smelling like Dirk Nowitzki midway through Game 6?

I'm exaggerating a little here; a hit fragrance is not as simple as some ingredients and slapping on a label. You also need an abstract black and white TV commercial that makes no sense, preferably directed by a European who goes by one name and screams at the caterer for bringing carbs onto the set. You need a creative bottle design, something that will be embarrassing enough to make all the people at TSA laugh when they make you hurl it in the trash at the airport. But most importantly you need a great slogan. Something succinct but also irresistible, that really captures your scent, that sums up its allure in the time it takes a bus advertisement to pass. Something like these hypothetical sports scents for 2012:

Kentucky Wildcat: Stays just one season—but the memories last a lifetime.

Petrino for Him: Hop on and enjoy the ride. Wait, look out!

Stan Van Gundy: When a man just doesn't care anymore.

Mets: Hey, we're 4-2. That so doesn't stink.

Cameron Duke: Fall in love with yourself, over and over.

Valentine for Boston: The perfectly wrong amount of crazy.

Unwind by John Daly: Wait, do I smell like wings?

Chaos by the Jets Front Office: When you can never have enough quarterbacks.

Bayless Fantasy: For the underappreciated genius who scores between 1.4 and 140 points per game.

2 a.m. Enberg: Oh, my.

Flirty Parcells: Go ahead, be a tease—then abandon us.

Ozzie for Miami: (Silence.)

Suspicious by Pro Cycling: Apply this two weeks before the Tour de France. Hide.

Gray Moyer: For the pitcher who remembers "McHale's Navy."

Silent Belichick: When a man has nothing to say. Or he does, and refuses to say it.

Linsanity: Smells a lot like February

Peyton & Elway: This stuff better work.

Slippery NCAA: Watch us make $$$ on student-athlete sweat.

Owners Meetings: When you need to smell like hairpieces and Gulfstreams.

Snyder for Washington: When you gotta pay twice the price.

Bubba Watson's Rough: Escape the woods!

Split Personality by the Knicks: Spend half the night smelling like Mike D'Antoni. Then half the night smelling like Mike Woodson.

Andy Murray No. 4: What it'd give to be Andy Murray No. 3.

Brooklyn Nets: They have no idea what this stuff will smell like.

Augusta for Men: When you've reached the top, and want to shut the door.

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